Chapter fifty-four
Freya
Monday should feel normal. Back to a routine.
Predictable. Instead, I feel like I’m living inside some strange, quiet bubble where all I can think about is Rory.
I’ve been distracted all day. I’ve still helped Year Two with their maths worksheets, stopped two minor arguments over whose turn it was with the whiteboard pen, and gently redirected a small uprising about reading logs.
But mentally? I’ve been somewhere else entirely.
Somewhere that smells like Rory’s aftershave and feels like strong arms wrapped around me in the middle of the night.
Saturday morning keeps replaying in my head.
The way we woke up tangled together in my bed.
The lazy conversation. The stupid smiles we kept catching ourselves giving each other.
He’d eventually gone home when Isla woke up, then Saturday night he’d appeared again.
Quietly. Like some kind of very attractive burglar.
I’d just finished reading my book when my phone buzzed.
Rory: Look outside.
I’d pulled the curtain aside to see him standing on the pavement holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other.
The most ridiculous grin on his face. Apparently, the plan had been to watch a film.
Apparently. We had every intention of watching that film.
But somewhere between the opening credits and Rory pulling me into his lap on the sofa, the film had become…
less of a priority. We didn’t make it past the first twenty minutes. Still. The intentions had been there.
Sunday had been torture in a completely different way.
Rory had Isla all day, which meant I saw him constantly through the window.
Walking down the road with her on his shoulders, heading out to her ballet class, playing in the garden.
Every time our eyes met there was that same little spark of something between us.
We’d texted most of the day like two teenagers.
But Theo had been at his dad’s, which meant I had far too much time to think.
And apparently when I think too much, I miss Rory. A lot.
By Sunday evening he’d appeared again. This time holding an Indian takeaway bag and looking far too pleased with himself.
“We’re just having dinner tonight,” he’d said.
“Just dinner?”
“Just dinner.”
And to be fair… We had actually managed dinner.
We sat on the sofa eating curry and talking about nothing important while the house smelled like garlic and spices.
We’d even managed to keep our hands mostly to ourselves.
Mostly. There had been that moment by the front door when he left which had started as a goodnight kiss and ended with me clinging to him and trying not to laugh too loudly while he made me come on his fingers.
We really cannot keep our hands off each other.
Which brings us to today. Monday. Normal life. Except I have absolutely no idea how to do normal life when the man I’m apparently in love with lives across the road and his daughter goes to the school I work at.
I didn’t see him this morning. On days when Theo is at his dad’s I’m usually at school before Rory arrives for the school run.
Which meant no accidental glances across the playground.
So I’ve been floating around school all day in this strange state of anticipation.
Because at three o’clock two very important things happen. I get my boy back. And I see Rory.
The clock on the classroom wall ticks painfully slowly toward the end of the day. I tidy the last of the workbooks, straighten the reading corner, and help Mrs Harris stack the chairs.
“Everything alright today, Freya?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say quickly. “Just tired.”
She nods sympathetically. “Monday feeling.”
If only she knew.
The bell finally rings. The sound sends a ripple of movement through the school as classroom doors open and children pour into the corridors. My heart lifts immediately. Theo.
I make my way out to the playground, scanning the crowd instinctively until I see him. He’s already looking for me. The moment his eyes land on me he grins.
“Mum!”
And suddenly nothing else matters. I open my arms just in time for him to crash into me.
“Hey, my boy,” I laugh, wrapping him up tightly.
God, I’ve missed this. Four days without him always feels too long.
I press my face into his hair and breathe him in.
That warm, familiar smell that is somehow uniquely Theo.
“You’re squeezing me,” he complains half-heartedly.
“Good.”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
I kiss the top of his head before finally loosening my grip.
Then I look up. And there he is. Across the playground.
Rory. He’s standing beside Isla, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder while she chatters away about something animatedly.
But he’s not looking at her. He’s looking at me.
The moment our eyes meet something in my chest flips.
That same quiet spark that’s been there all weekend.
God. I really am in love with this man. The realisation lands so suddenly that it almost steals my breath. Theo follows my gaze.
“Oh look,” he says casually. “It’s Rory.”
Like he hasn’t just pointed out the centre of my entire universe right now.
Rory lifts a hand in a small wave. I wave back. Trying very hard to look normal. Theo turns back to me.
“Can we walk home with them?”
I blink. “What?”
“Them,” he repeats, pointing. “Isla and Rory.”
My heart does a little hopeful jump. “Yes,” I say quickly. “Yes, we can.”
Theo grabs my hand and starts dragging me across the playground before I can even pretend to hesitate. Rory meets us halfway.
“Hey,” he says casually.
“Hi.”
Our eyes meet again and suddenly the air between us feels charged.
Theo and Isla immediately start talking over each other about something involving football and someone called Liam who apparently cheated.
Rory glances at me. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “How was work?” he asks.
“Fine. Good day?”
“It just got better.”
My stomach flips. We start walking toward the gate together, the kids slightly ahead of us now.
For a second Rory’s hand brushes mine. Just lightly.
Enough that I feel it all the way up my arm.
He glances down, then back up at me and for a moment I genuinely think he’s about to kiss me, in the middle of the school run.
I give him a look. Then glance meaningfully toward the children.
Realisation flashes across his face. He clears his throat.
“Right,” he says quickly.
I try not to laugh.
We walk the rest of the way home like that. Side by side. Stealing small glances when the kids aren’t looking. When we reach the cul-de-sac the familiar awkwardness settles in. Because technically… We live in separate houses. Theo runs ahead toward our front door.
“Race you!” Isla shouts.
Within seconds they’re gone. Rory and I stop at the pavement. For a second neither of us moves. Then he smiles slightly.
“See you later?”
“Maybe.”
His eyes flick toward my house. Then back to me.
“I think we need to talk,” he says quietly.
“Yeah,” I agree. “We definitely do.”
About what we are. About how we do this. About how two people who apparently fell in love in the space of one weekend are supposed to function in normal life. We part ways then. He heads toward his house. I head toward mine. Theo is already inside when I walk through the door.
“Mum!” he shouts from the living room.
“Coming!”
The evening passes in the usual blur of dinner, homework, and bedtime stories. By the time Theo is finally asleep the house is quiet again. My phone sits in my hand. I stare at Rory’s name for a moment. Then type.
Freya: Theo’s in bed.
Three dots appear almost instantly.
Rory: Good to know.
I smile.
Freya: You still coming over?
A pause. Then:
Rory: I was planning on it.
Freya: You’ll have to be quiet.
Rory: Freya Collins.
Fuck, I love it when he calls me by my full name. I’d love it even better if it were Freya Bennett.
Freya: Yes?
Rory: How dare you suggest that we would be doing anything that would make us anything other than quiet!
I laugh softly.
Freya: We weren’t quiet on Friday. Or Saturday. Or even Sunday.
Another pause.
Rory: That was different.
Freya: How?
Rory: You weren’t trying to keep me quiet.
Heat spreads through me.
Freya: Just come over.
Three dots appear again.
Rory: Five minutes. Gotta look my best for my girl.
My Girl. My heart immediately starts beating faster. Because apparently… Normal life now includes Rory Bennett sneaking into my house after dark and calling me his girl.
True to his word, five minutes later there’s a soft knock at the door.
I open it quietly and there he is. That fine specimen of a man that apparently now refers to me as his.
He’s standing on my doorstep like some sort of extremely attractive problem I have absolutely no intention of solving.
He looks… unfairly good. Dark jeans, a soft grey hoodie, hair still slightly damp like he’s just showered.
And he smells incredible, that warm, clean aftershave that instantly turns me on as it reminds me of my face being buried deep in his neck.
God knows how we’re going to stay quiet tonight.
“Hi,” he murmurs.
“Hi.”
For a moment we just look at each other.
Then he steps inside and closes the door gently behind him.
And the second the latch clicks, all the space between us disappears.
His hands slide to my waist as he pulls me toward him and kisses me.
It’s a kiss that’s full of everything that’s been building between us all day. I melt into him instantly.
“I missed you,” he whispers against my mouth.
“You saw me this afternoon.”
“Not like this I didn’t.”
I laugh softly, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before pulling back slightly. “Quiet,” I whisper.